Becoming (21 page)

The priest continued his defence.

‘The testaments are complex, and contain contradictions. They have to be seen in their historical context. They must be studied. Some of the words and sentiments must be seen as of their time. But read the words, study them, and you will see they are words filled with love.’

Freya laughed and shook her head.

‘What about the historical context we’re in now. This godless world you describe, maybe we need sentiments that are right for now. How is your God’s love going to save us?’

‘Leave it Freya! Father Ridley has welcomed us, cooked for us, provided us with shelter. The least we can do is treat him with respect. I think you owe him an apology.’

Aran had heard enough. He knew Freya. There was no real interest in this other than attacking the priest. Freya believed in nothing. Aran’s voice was stern and abrupt, reflecting his anger. Freya looked shocked, but tried to defend herself.

‘Look I was just…’

‘Apologise!’

Freya and Aran’s eyes locked, as Freya fumed at her humiliation. The priest said nothing, wallowing in satisfaction, waiting for the apology to come. Ridley looked at Freya with a smug, expectant expression, while Freya took her time. She continued to glare at Aran, unwilling to look away, knowing there was no choice. Whatever Freya thought of the priest, whatever his views, Aran was right, at least for now. The priest would be found out soon.

Freya heard the words of the priest and his God, but only heard the words of man. Ridley’s faith in these words had been given credence and value through centuries of blind indoctrination. Freya and the others had been spared this, but had been fed a different kind, one Freya and the other young people may never overcome. They were all controlled by a different tyranny, but Freya would walk alone. She would find her own path, her own truth. No-one would tell Freya what to do ever again, especially not an old man in a strange suit and white tie worshipping stories thousands of years old. Freya took a deep breath and uttered the words the others had been waiting for.

‘I’m sorry. Forgive me.’

The priest nodded his head, a smug look still spread over his face. The old man basked in his glory, the hollow victory. It would be short-lived.

‘Of course I forgive you my child. Let’s say no more about it.’

They continued to eat, and after a period of silence the conversation turned to other topics - their plans, and what they hoped to find. Ridley was quiet and coy on the subject of the community in the hills. Gaia felt sure he would know of it, heard rumours in discussions with others at the nearby village. Gaia sensed the priest knew more, but would not share it. Gaia finished her food and asked to be excused.

‘Is there a toilet I could use?’

‘Of course. It’s just through the kitchen. There’s a passage at the back. It’s the room at the very end.’

Gaia rose and made her way through the kitchen which had already been cleaned, the cooking pots washed and draining by the sink. The inviting smell of the meal still dominated the room. Gaia’s hunger was satisfied and she was as full as she had ever been. She made her way through a door and along a narrow passage. The floor was covered in tattered carpet with a garish floral pattern. The walls had candlesticks mounted along them, an assortment of different sized candles lit her way.

As Gaia neared the doorway at the end of the passage, she heard a noise from the room to the left. The door was ajar. Gaia stopped and leaned towards the crack of the open door. She could hear something. It was faint, but Gaia focused on the sound. It was the soft whisper of a girl’s voice in repetitive chanting. The words were monotonous and lifeless. Gaia leant against the door, edging it open, pushing her head through the gap.

The room was bare with only an iron framed bed against the wall, the floor exposed wooden boards. On the wall was a mounted candleholder with a solitary candle casting a dingy light around the room. On the other wall above the bed was the man on the cross again, Jesus light and saviour. On the bed sat Rebecca, reading the red book and chanting. Her voice was faint, almost inaudible. Then Gaia noticed the full horror.

At the top of the bed attached to the iron frame were a set of handcuffs. The bed sheets, filthy and torn were also stained in dark red. Rebecca did not look up. She just sat at the bottom of the bed, chanting the bland, hypnotic words. Gaia stepped back, and pulled the door to a little, pausing to contemplate what she had seen. She felt strange, a touch dizzy and queasy. Images began to flash in Gaia’s mind, distorted visions invading.

Gaia made it to the toilet and struggled back to the main room, her mind a flurry of dark images, some clear and lucid. Gaia was aware of everything that was happening, but some of her mind was fighting her. This part was full of the crazed, dancing visions darting and dashing. Gaia’s lucid mind was trying to suppress these wild thoughts, cast them out, control them, but she could not. Gaia sat, her mind bombarded with the building chaos. There were voices, words. They were heated and animated, but familiar. It was Ridley and Freya fighting again. This time more aggressive. Gaia looked across at Aran, his face was clear, but his head was tossing and turning, lit up with a delirious smile. Aran’s face became distorted with large, bulbous eyes. He was giggling like a giant, hideous child bearing down on her.

Gaia looked at the priest, his face twisted and filled with rage. He was standing and pointing at Freya. The old man’s finger morphed into a long metal sword and his face melted. Gaia saw a demon with sharp, pointed teeth and salivating jaws, the teeth of the rats. Ridley’s eyes burned blood red and his head grew two pointed and twisted horns. The priest began to laugh, a loud and uncontrollable cackle. It was chilling, the sound ripping though Gaia’s body like a cold knife.

Gaia could feel herself trembling. The clear part of her mind was speaking to her, reassuring her, telling her this was all a dark nightmare. The voice stopped, paused amid all the chaos that reigned inside, the demon face, the blood curdling laughter. Gaia began to panic. What if it would always be this way? What if she never woke up? What if the rest of her life was this endless struggle between clarity and chaos? What if this was all she would know? Gaia was staring at madness, what it meant to be insane, clarity and control versus chaos. A surge of panic rushed through Gaia’s body, her mind now in overdrive, drowning in the frenzy of images. One by one the visions flashed through her head, dark, disturbing, delirious and delightful. Layer upon layer of twisted thoughts, simultaneously, merging into one, a collage of chaos. Then there was darkness.

17

Gaia opened her eyes. Freya was standing over her. Gaia was in one of the armchairs, head hazy, still with faint echoes of the madness from the night before. Images drifted in and out of Gaia’s mind, but less intense, like clouds rumbling in the distance after a huge lightning storm. The skies were clear and blue now. There was control again, confused control. Freya reached out and touched Gaia, whispered.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I still feel a bit strange. What happened?’

‘Ridley drugged us. It was probably in the wine, a hallucinogen, probably from wild mushrooms. They grow all over this place and there’s loads this time of year on damp mornings. I bet you had some crazy dreams.’

Gaia thought back to the night before, the cacophony of images flashed through her mind. At first the memories were patchy, just flickers, but became more vivid, almost real. The demonic face appeared, the horns and snarling teeth. There was the same surge of panic as the fear returned. Gaia was staring into the abyss again, standing on a precipice, about to plunge into a dark, spiralling black hole of madness. She was in the crazed world, her lucid mind locked in battle with wild, anarchic thoughts. Gaia shook her head, tried to rid herself of the haze.

‘I thought I’d gone mad.’

Freya put her hand on Gaia’s shoulder.

‘I’m sure you did. The drugs unlock something in your mind, open your thoughts. They take over and you feel as though you’ve lost control. In the right environment they can be amazing, but in the wrong place and the situation we were in last night. I can understand why you panicked.’

Freya sat on a dining chair and faced Gaia who was looking around the room in search of the others. Aran was sleeping in the armchair in the opposite corner. The table was a mess, broken crockery and food scattered on the floor. Ridley and the girls were not there. Gaia spoke.

‘How is Aran?’

‘Aran’ll sleep it off, like you. I’ll wake him soon.’

‘And you?’

Freya grinned, one of her sly, knowing grins.

‘I was fine. I didn’t drink any of the wine. I made it look like I did, but you know me by now I trust no-one. I never liked that slimy bastard from the start. I never trust the righteous, they usually have something to hide.’

An image flashed into Gaia’s head. It was a dim, dreary, candle-lit room, an iron-frame bed, handcuffs, blood stained sheets, a girl chanting, Rebecca. Gaia struggled for a moment, thinking it was a dream, another mad thought. She realised it had been real. An overwhelming sense of pain and sorrow swept through her as Gaia felt the depth of Rebecca’s suffering. An image of Clara flashed into Gaia’s head. Rebecca, Clara, then Rebecca again, the two images jostling until they blurred into one. This was real, all of it.

‘Freya, I saw something last night. Rebecca was in her room.’

‘I know.’

Freya interrupted her, got up from the chair. Leaning forward Freya gripped Gaia’s shoulders. It was a firm grip. Freya let go, knelt beside Gaia and began to stroke her shiny red hair. Gaia was crying, tears trickled from her eyes. Freya wiped her friend’s cheeks, caught them with her fingers, and spoke.

‘Everything is sorted now. We’ll wake Aran, and decide on our next move.’

Freya got to her feet and extended her hand to help her friend up. Gaia took her arm and struggled to her feet, putting her arm over Freya’s shoulder as her feet buckled.

‘I’m still a bit frazzled. Where are Ridley and the girls?’

‘I’ll show you.’

They woke Aran who was still dazed, drifting into other thoughts, wincing at the dark images. Freya explained everything, that it would fade, they would be fine, with the occasional flashback. Freya led Gaia and Aran into the main church area.

Ridley was in front of the table by the large stained window. He was on his knees, hands stretched out straight, tied with a rope across the table. The priest resembled the cross that stood on the table just behind. Ridley’s head was also bowed and he too was bleeding from his face and forehead. At first Gaia thought the old man was dead, but noticed the slow, steady movement of his chest, and heard the rattle of breathing. It was weak and laboured, he looked exhausted, near dead. Freya approached the table.

‘We need to decide what we do with him. I didn’t want to do anything until you woke. You might think I took matters into my own hands.’

Freya looked at Aran, who was still too dazed to catch any hidden meanings. Gaia spoke.

‘Where are the girls?’

‘Ruth and Mary are in a room in the back. Rebecca ran away just before you woke. She slipped out of a door at the back. We need to move quickly. She might have gone to get others.’

Aran’s eyes were still glazed. The decision sat with Gaia and Freya. Gaia spoke.

‘What do you think?’

Freya leant over the old man and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back. Gaia could now see his battered face, caked in dried blood. His cheeks and eyes were swollen, his mouth quivered as he snarled at Freya. The priest opened his dry lips, ripping them apart.

‘Have mercy, please. In the name of God have mercy. Leave me here. I can do you no harm.’

Freya sneered at him, pulling his hair tighter. The priest winced with the pain, as Freya pressed her face close to his ear and spat the words at him.

‘Mercy. Is that what you showed Rebecca, Mary, and Ruth? Is that what you call mercy? I’ve been round the back and seen the fresh graves. Did you drug their parents and kill them? What were you planning to do with us? You’re a sick old man hiding behind your words. I’m going to show you our mercy.’

Gaia stepped forward and tugged at Freya’s free arm.

‘Let him go Freya. We need to talk about this, think it through. We’re better than him.’

Freya let go of Ridley’s hair and stepped back. Her eyes were still locked on the priest, her face gripped with fury and disdain. Freya wiped the spit from her mouth and spoke. Her voice was cool and calm, still in control.

‘We’ve got two choices. We leave him and go, or I finish him off.’

Gaia was hesitant, trying to come up with alternatives, but her mind was still a blur.

‘Do you not think there’s been enough killing?’

Freya’s eyes remained focused on the priest, locked in a cold stare.

‘I think there’s been too much death, and too many innocents have died, but this is different. Some people deserve to die.’

Ridley laughed collapsing into a fit of coughing. The old man looked up at Freya, swollen lips trying to force out words, bloodied eyes searching for her face. He mustered the energy, his voice frail.

‘Do what you will. You can’t hurt me. I’ve got God on my side. Whatever happens I’m prepared to face him. It’s only his judgement I recognise. Only he can grant my forgiveness.’

Gaia looked at the priest’s pitiful face. There was a glimmer of pleasure behind the blood and bruising as the old man still clutched his blind passion, even in the last throws of death. Gaia knelt down in front of him, much closer, so he could make out her face.

‘Why’d you do it? Why them? They trusted you. They’re just kids. Why?’

The old man lifted his weary head. Blood filled saliva ran from his cracked lips, head scanning the room, searching with his bruised and swollen eyes. Ridley was trying to find the girls, but they were safe. The priest’s voice was just a broken whisper now.

‘God gave them to me to love as though they were my own.’

The old man lowered his head and began to mumble, his voice and body draining of all energy and life, managing to splutter a few final words.

‘I will answer to the Lord for my sins, not you.’  

Freya stepped forward. She stood over the old man, lifted his head and stared down at his face. Without expression Freya thrust her knife into the centre of the priest’s chest, lifting him from the floor as the knife twisted in her clenched fist. Ridley winced, his mouth open wide, gasping for air. Freya kept thrusting and twisting, as the priest struggled, the life seeping from him. Freya pressed her face close to his, and whispered, her face a sneer.

‘Consider this an act of mercy. Go meet your saviour, face the truth and be judged.’

Ridley’s body relaxed as the life slipped from him. He lurched forward against Freya as she eased the knife from his chest, a circle of dark red blood forming in his pullover. Freya shuffled back, rose to her feet, and stood over the old man. All three looked down at the lifeless body as it hung from the table, arms still outstretched, head leant forward. Gaia looked at the cross on the table, and back down at the priest. Gaia reached out and took Freya and Aran’s hands.

Freya took a white sheet from one of the tables and threw it over the body. Gaia collected the girls from the room at the back of the church. They were cowering in the corner, the room they had shared for many years. This had been the scene of their torture and abuse at the hands of someone who was meant to protect. The room was sparse and filthy, both clutched the red book in their hands. They were chanting passages, dazed and in a trance.

Gaia found the girls some socks, shoes, and warm clothes. She took the red books and placed them on bloodied beds, then led each girl to the door. Neither said a word. Gaia looked back at the room, their life. It was a pitiful scene, just two beds, covered in filthy mattresses, some wall mounted candles and a crucifix. Ruth still clutched her blanket and sucked her thumb, both stared with blank expressions. The girls were gone. They had been destroyed. The priest claimed he was saving their souls, but he had taken them instead. Ridley had raped their innocence, and stolen their youth.

Gaia led them back into the kitchen. Aran and Freya were rummaging through the cupboards, taking anything useful they could find. Freya was agitated.

‘We need to move quickly guys. Rebecca could have found people, raised the alarm. Let’s get going.’

Freya checked outside in case any rats remained. Reassured it was clear Freya led them out the rear door and through the graveyard. They soon reached the woods that surrounded the church. The girls were slow, but followed without speaking. The group zig-zagged through the sparse trees and thin undergrowth with ease. After a short while Gaia spotted something up ahead, something odd moving in the trees. The view was obstructed. She stopped and signalled to the others to wait. Aran stood by her shoulder and spoke.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Can you see that over there? There’s something in the trees.’

Gaia pointed in the direction of the object. It was white. They caught brief flashes as it moved and twirled through the gap in the leaves and branches. They edged forward, and neared a gap. Gaia realised what it was. In a tree, hanging from a long overhanging branch was a body. It was limp and lifeless, twisting and twirling from a thick rope. A pair of soft, delicate feet pointed to the earth, and a grubby white dress covered a slender frame. The broken neck was draped in long, flowing black hair. It was Rebecca.

Gaia turned to shelter the two younger girls, protect them, but it was too late. The girls stood there impassive, staring at the swinging corpse. There was no reaction, no expression. Gaia turned Ruth and Mary the other way while Aran and Freya cut down the body and laid it on the ground. Freya placed Rebecca’s hands on her chest and sprinkled some of the golden, fresh fallen leaves across her body until she was covered and out of view. Gaia knelt before the girls.

‘Look girls. What we’ve just seen, your sister. I’m sorry. Maybe she’s in a better place now, away from all this.’

Gaia hugged the girls, held them tight for a few moments, let them go.

‘Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you now. You’re safe now. I’ll protect you. Do you understand?’

The girls looked at Gaia, the same blank expressions, Ruth still sucking her thumb, Mary’s face cold and vacant. There was no comment or reaction. Gaia spoke again.

‘We’re going to the hills. There’s a community there who can help us. We’ll be safe there.’

Gaia hugged the girls again, feeling their bodies both stiffen as she held them. They were trembling. Gaia let go and got to her feet. Aran had approached. Gaia took his hand and whispered.

‘We’ll take care of them, won’t we?’

Aran squeezed Gaia’s hand and nodded, she put her head on his shoulder. Aran lifted Gaia’s hand and kissed it. They looked at each other, his face was soft with a warm, gentle smile. Gaia felt a rush through her body again, the burning in her stomach. For the briefest moment Gaia felt safe and happy, as though nothing else mattered. All pain and fear had gone. It was as though the past few days had been just dreams. In a world of fear and chaos they still had a chance of a better future, something to live for. It was something Rebecca never had, something she never found, something they were all searching for, even those who did not know it.

Everyone gathered around the mound of golden leaves with heads bowed. Gaia and Aran held the hands of Mary and Ruth. This was their opportunity to say goodbye. The girls were silent, without emotion, but Gaia was sure they would be hurting. The sisters had spent a long time together in those dark cells, in the clutches of the priest. They were united in the bond of their pain and suffering. They had been a family of sorts, a dark, dysfunctional family. Perhaps this was the only type of family left in the world. Gaia had never known family. Her only family had been the community. Gaia had no mother or father, no sisters or brothers. Maybe that was what she was searching for? The love, security and stability of family. Maybe that was the truth she was meant to find?